


Sometimes You Need Me

by shirleyholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha!John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Angsty Schmoop, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Verse, Omega!Sherlock, One Shot, One True Pairing, POV First Person, POV John Watson, PWP, Porn, Rimming, Rough Sex, one way ticket to hell, things I already regret posting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirleyholmes/pseuds/shirleyholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha!John loves watching Sherlock come undone. But he'll never admit it. Pure PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Need Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a kink meme prompt for an Omegaverse sex scene involving lots of lubricant. If you don't know what Omegaverse is, please read this (http://mazarin221b.tumblr.com/post/13225087865/sounding-dumb-but-what-is-an-omegaverse) by the lovely Mazarin221b. 
> 
> This scene is consensual, but, by nature, Omegaverse is a bit squicky with consent, so please make sure you know what you're getting into!
> 
> Now excuse me while I go buy my tickets to hell.
> 
> AND NOW THERE'S A PODFIC by the lovely desertinsomniac! Check it out: http://archiveofourown.org/works/652232

It’s slick and wet, trickling down the inside of your thigh. The bed sheets are close to being soaked under you, and you’re moaning, slim hands fisting into the white cloth around you. You need me and I can’t deny you that, but give me a second, Sherlock.

Let me look at you, love. 

You’re gorgeous like this, you know that? All long lines and need, your eyes heavy-lidded as they flick around the room, roll into the back of your head. Not observing now, are you? It’s a bit sad, really, the primal urges that change who we are, turn us from humans into animals. Always so much worse for the Omegas, hush love, I know. I’m sorry too, not because I don’t love you like this, but because you hate it.

“John, please,” you beg and the words and the tone are foreign coming from your deceptively soft lips, the ones that normally drip with clever sarcasm and insults. But not now.

I don’t know if you even know what you’re saying anymore, but the need to take care of you, protect you, is too strong and I sit lightly on the edge of the bed, take a hold of your ankle.

You whimper and spread your legs wantonly, eyes closed now. I slip my hand up a little further, to your knee and Christ, you want it badly, don’t you, because you’re making the most ridiculous noises, panting and whining and you’d be embarrassed to hear yourself, you really would, but I can feel myself growing hard at the sound.

Just a little further up then, up your thigh, and now I can feel the still-warm fluid under my hand and I stroke gently, the slippery wetness coating my fingers. 

“Open your eyes,” I command and you obey instantly, eyes jerking open, unfocused. I bring the hand to my lips and sniff. Every Omega is different, I know that, every one smells different to their Alpha and the scent is part personality, part chemistry, but the truth is, most of the scent is just association, the memories that I think of when I think of you. So your scent is sharp tobacco and London smog and a strange bitterness and mixed with mine, it is gunmetal and blood and home.

I taste you off my fingers and you watch, pupils dilated, your thrashing stilling as you realize I can’t resist and Christ, the hormones daze me, this is need, pure and desperate.

“Let me touch you,” I say urgently, but I’m already bracing my hands against your thighs, my fingers slipping in liquid, because I’ve let you wait for too long. You keen loudly when I touch my tongue to your thighs, but I need this, fuck, the way you taste, I need more. I haul you into my lap, between my knees, and you’re crying out again.

“John, take me, it’s too much, please, I need you, I need you inside me-” You don’t shut up, not even when I take your legs over my shoulders and part your cheeks, proceed to lap at your hole in broad strokes. It won’t take much, of course not, because you’re gaping wide already, your body slick and wet and begging for my cock. You’re growing steadily less coherent and bucking again, your hands on my upper thighs, scratching futilely at the skin and I need it too now.  


One more lick and you’re screaming my name.You’re crying by now, a whimpering, debauched mess and it’s cruel to keep you like this, you need me, and quiet, I’ll take care of you, I promised I would didn’t I? I press a hand to your sweaty forehead and you catch my wrist, fingers digging in. You’ve only gotten wetter, my presence exacerbating the problem, but you couldn’t do without me, could you?

God, I love you like this. It’s not fair, I’d never tell you that, but you’re so untouchable to the world and having you want me so badly is a heady feeling. 

I will never tell you that. But I’ll give you what you need, because that is what I do. 

I slide a hand under your back, coax you to flip over and you snuffle into the pillow, clenching your hands around it, arse in the air, the viscous fluid all the way down to your knees. I settle behind you, slide my aching cock into you.

“Yes, move, dammit, John, move.” Bossy bastard. Demanding as always, but you’re clenching around me and it’s just tight enough, so slick and I’m losing myself pounding into you, the heat of you and still you want more. You back yourself up, try to take in more of me, forehead still against sheet.

Fuck, you want this. I move faster, reach around and run my hands up and down your body, smearing the traces of your own lubricant across your nipples and then down, until I can grasp your cock and pump you mercilessly. You cry out and shudder, your knees giving out as you almost fall into your own mess, but I’m too far gone now and I grab you by the waist, keep you connected and it’s cruel, yeah, you’re too sensitive right now, but it’s only a few pumps and then I’m coming into you, adding to the bodily fluids that slide down your legs and you’re crying, not from pain, but from the sheer exhaustion of it, the shivering want. Your body takes what it needs from me and later I’ll hope your birth control worked, that you didn’t forget to take it, but for now all I can think of is you and breeding you, so that the world knows you're mine. I tell you this and you nod, trembling, wanting it all so badly, until, finally, you relax under me and it’s over. 

I go and get some water, a towel, clean you off as best as I can. No good trying for too much, because give it an hour, at most, before you’re shaking and desperate again. I take you in my arms and hold you, because you like that and you cry into my neck now, wrapping your long limbs around me. There’s no making sense to you when you’re like this, no talking, no reason and so I whisper everything and nothing into your ear, just a comforting stream to calm you and finally you sleep, curled into my body, demanding my heat and space.

Christ Sherlock, I love you when you’re like this. 

But I love you even more when you’re not.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: This was actually my first PWP ever, before it became a part of this series-- since then, I've only gotten worse (better?)-- I don't even know anymore.


End file.
